Friction (The Frenzy Series Book 4) (25 page)

It was evening before I stepped outside. The sun had fallen behind the trees in the hills beyond the Colony. The first lightning bugs began to flicker green through the trees and grass. The scent of honeysuckle floated on the gentle breeze. Bushes were flowered and dripped petals of every color on the ground. Rose bushes bloomed. Gardens were being set in every yard, the plants from Mountainside already bolstering their rows.

No one had come to get us yet. Tage stepped out behind me. “You okay?”

“Not really,” I answered honestly. “I don’t know what’s taking them so long.”

He rubbed my shoulders, the tension flowing out of them. The night was filled with the sound of cicadas calling out for their pharaoh. Father always said they searched the land for him, longing to serve him again. Every seventeen years they emerged, and they were only starting to sing. Soon, we would battle them for our own crops.

“Pha-raoh, Pha-raoh, Pha-roah,” they sang as one.

Maybe it was that sound that masked the words of the council men and women. Maybe Maggie sent them to shield me from their hatred. Maybe they were just loud, obnoxious bugs who should stay buried in the ground or trees or wherever they came from. Whatever it was, my ears were stronger. They’d begun the funeral without us. Purposefully.

“Get Mercedes. I’m going to get Roman.” Tage questioned me with his eyes. “Listen, beyond the noise of the night.”

His eyes hardened as he heard what I did. “You’ve
got
to be kidding me.”

I shook my head.

He let out a frustrated growl and stalked toward the house. “Mercedes?” he called out. She answered right away. “They started the funeral without us.”

I could hear her angry yelling, much more high pitched than his timbre. Roman must have heard, too. He met me on the street in front of his house. “I’m sorry. Maybe if I’d done better to give the night-walkers a good image, you wouldn’t be in this position.”

“What were you supposed to do? Be their friends and then feed from them? That wouldn’t have worked, either.” I waited for Tage and Mercedes to catch up. He walked with her, given she was human. He was thoughtful like that. Most men, let alone vampires, would have run ahead, leaving her behind.

“Maybe we should wait and go see her after they leave,” I wondered aloud.

“No, kitten,” Tage said, grabbing my hand. “You loved her. You have every right in the world to be at Maggie’s funeral.”

He was right. So with Tage’s hand in mine, the four of us walked toward the cemetery.

As Victor Freeman spoke of Maggie, whom he never bothered to give the time of day to even though she made the clothes on his back, we approached the crowd. Gasps and whispers became louder the closer we got until no one was listening to Victor and he stopped to see what the commotion was all about. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead and my legs began to feel weak. I had to hold it together. For Maggie. For Porschia.

Ford stepped up beside me and smiled. “’Bout time you showed up.”

“No one told us.”

Mouth agape, he said, “Mary Brown went to get you.”

“She didn’t.”

“I should have gone after you myself,” he spat, looking at Mary with more anger than a teenager should hold. She straightened her back and stared back at us indignantly, lips pursed.

It was slow. If you didn’t pay attention, you wouldn’t have seen it until the end, but the humans moved away from our group like prey threatened by a predator. Maybe they sensed the danger, the fury flowing from us all.

When it was clear that we weren’t leaving, Victor finished what he was saying: a vague eulogy for Maggie that praised her dedication to the Colony and lifted her skill as a seamstress. But that was all they knew about her. They didn’t know how much she cared, or how she talked to you like you were a human being, capable of errors and dripping with emotion. They didn’t say how she took my sister in and how she opened her home to me when I had none, simply because she was kind. They didn’t know Maggie, so all they could say was how grateful they were to have her clothing. It was about what she’d done for them, not what they knew about her. And it was disgusting.

Porschia was about to snap. I could feel her body tense and become board-like beside me. I nudged her.

She looked to me and I shook my head. “Don’t. It’s what they expect,” I whispered.

She sniffed, blinking her eyes to the sky. “I won’t.”

I wanted to yell for her, but again, it was what they expected. We would take the high road and leave the low road to the colonists who used to be our neighbors, friends, lovers. Noah stared at me blankly from across the grave. For a moment I stared back, but that was before I realized that he – that none of them – were worth it. Maybe we should all leave, night-walkers included, and see how they fared in the forest by themselves; see how they could protect themselves. In truth, they might be fine now that the Infected around here were cured. They might be able to fend for themselves now, and maybe a little self-reliance would do them some good.

Slowly the colonists, new and old, made their way back to their homes. My sister was breaking. She began picking flowers, sniffing them and letting her tears drop to the earth. I helped her, trying to keep my balance. Maggie deserved flowers on her grave. She was a saint, the only person in our world who didn’t see Porschia as anything but her. She saw the good in her, the human in her. She saw the same in everyone, regardless of what they were: Infected, Human, Night-walker. Maggie saw the person, the soul, beneath it all.

Fear blinded people to the truth. It was as much a curse as anything else.

I stayed with Porschia as the crowd thinned and then only the people who actually knew and cared for Maggie were left. Mercedes didn’t look well. Dark circles hung under her eyes and her skin was almost as pale as Porschia’s now. But where Porschia looked healthy, Mercedes’ skin was splotchy and bruised-looking. I kept an eye on them both. Porschia so she wouldn’t snap, and Mercedes so she didn’t fall over dead.

Then she passed out, and the only thing that stopped her from hitting the ground hard was Porschia’s lightning reflexes.

“What’s wrong?” Porschia asked, looking up at the others for help. Tage crouched beside her as Roman and Father helped ease her down.

“Has she eaten?” I asked.

Porschia looked up at me. “She had soup for dinner last night. I don’t know if she ate this morning.”

“Could it be the same flu that I had after changing back?” Roman threw out.

Father yelled for me to run and get water, so I ran to the nearest well at the back side of the barn and pulled some up with the bucket, unchaining it and taking the whole thing with me. Water sloshed over the edges onto my pants and shoes, but I ran anyway.

When I came back, Mercedes was sitting up, blinking and holding her mouth. “Is she sick?”

Porschia shook her head robotically, a hollow look in her eyes. “She...the cure didn’t work this time.”

“What?” I knelt beside her and held the bucket up for Mercedes to take a drink, but she pushed it away, rocking and crying.

“Why wouldn’t it work? I fed from an Infected! I did exactly what I was supposed to do.”

Tage swallowed. “This makes no sense. Are you sure?”

Mercedes opened her mouth wide. The fangs, which had been gone for days, were growing back, albeit slowly this time. Two sharp peaks erupted from her gums, swollen and angry red.

Porschia stood abruptly. “I’ll find another. I’ll bring an Infected to the woods tonight. You will feed from them and it’ll be okay. Just take more blood.”

“My fangs aren’t in yet. I can’t feed from them.”

“There are other ways to get blood from a person. And you
will
feed tonight. We have to stop this.”

“My body is hot. Not the inferno of when I first changed, but there’s a smoldering heat inside me. I’ve felt it since I left The Manor.”

Roman cursed and stood up. “I’m coming with you, Porschia.”

“I’ll go, too,” Tage said, adamantly.

“Someone has to stay with Mercedes, in case...” Porschia didn’t finish her sentence, but everyone knew what she meant.

Father spoke up. “Take her to Saul. She can stay with him while you find someone to cure her.”

It was a good idea, if we could find him; if he was still in the forest and hadn’t left yet. “Is he still there?” I asked.

Porschia nodded. “He is.” I saw Tage tense beside her. Roman told Father and me about the bond she had to him. Tage could get mad all he wanted, but that bond might be the best tool we had right now.

“Can you walk?” Porschia asked, helping Mercedes stand.

“Not fast, but yes.”

Porschia nodded. “Let’s get you to Saul.” To Father, she said, “I’ll take care of her.”

To Tage and Roman, she nodded. “We hunt.”

They echoed with as much resolve. “We hunt.”